


Amalia's Break

by Geist



Category: Wakfu
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Breast Fondling, Breasts, F/F/F, Fingering, Lesbian, Light Bondage, Multi, Orgasm, Original Character - Freeform, Party, Plant Magic, Plant sex, Princess - Freeform, Royalty, Sadida, Semi-Public Sex, Servants, Skimpy clothing, Sneaking Out, Strap-On, Tentacles, Threesome, Vaginal Sex, Vines, Yuri, boobs, cum filling, nipple sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6750274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geist/pseuds/Geist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upper class parties - so boring. Fortunately, Amalia's not averse to disporting with the servantry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amalia's Break

Another evening, another royal function. Amalia swam through the sea of dignitaries, diplomats and nobles with practised ease, meeting and greeting, dispensing compliments and polite banalities. A piece of gossip here, a request for royal favour there. Words in the right ears, and carefully sculpted lies and brush-offs for the wrong ears. It was simple. And utterly, completely boring. All the interesting guests - sea captains, the more acceptable sorts of adventurer and the like - were already monopolised, and Amalia couldn’t waste time among the knots of people who were already standing around enrapt by their tales. 

Instead she went back to the business of court: chatting, charming and chicaning. She was just about ready to pack it in and head back to the high table for a respite when-

“Refreshments, your Highness?”

Amalia turned to see a waitress holding a wooden tray covered in a variety of green things.

“Onoclée!” she said. “Thank goodness.”

“The grass canapés are particularly good tonight, and we have some very delicious iced root tea.”

Amalia looked around to make sure no one was watching, grabbed two of the canapés and stuffed them in her mouth, barely bothering to chew. She glugged down a tea after it, and plunked the cup back on the tray.

“Onoclée, help, I’m so bored!”

Onoclée raised a bushy green eyebrow. Unlike Amalia, in her long gown, the staff were dressed in more traditional Sadida dress. Hence, they were of great interest to visitors from colder climes, and in the case of this particularly busty waitress, the cause of much speculation about how a couple of leaves held up so much. Amalia watched a Bontarian ambassador twist his head nearly a hundred and eighty degrees trying to take a peek, before his wife dragged him away. She smirked, but couldn’t blame him.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. Come meet me in the western corridor, you know the one. Ten minutes.”

Onoclée tittered, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Why, princess, are you suggesting something improper? I couldn’t possibly indulge in anything that might besmirch the royal name.”

“Shhh! Say it a bit louder, idiot. Are you coming or not?”

“Okay.” Onoclée nodded. “Fraxinelle’s working tonight, too. Shall I see if she wants to come along?”

“Alright. But quickly. Ten minutes, remember?”

“I’ll remember.” She giggled again, and disappeared into the crowd.

As naturally as possible, Amalia made her way to the edge of the hall and slipped out through a side door. She skulked through the palace, room to room, corridor to corridor, avoiding being seen wherever possible until she reached a dim, cobwebby hallway that hadn’t been used for years. Leaning against the wall, she waited.

“Princess? I’m here.” Onoclée was right on time, as usual. Amalia stood up straight.

“Thank Sadida. Why are these parties always so boring, Onoclée?”

“Being asked for more wine a dozen times in a row is a bit tedious, yes.”

Amalia stepped forward, reached behind herself and unfastened her dress. It fell to the floor, and Amalia stepped out of it with a stretch and a sigh.

“Ahh, much better. Now that we’ve got a moment, why don’t we have some fun?”

Onoclée giggled her lascivious giggle. “Princess, you’re always so naughty.” She pulled down her top, baring her bountiful breasts. “Have at them. I know you love them.”

Amalia grabbed Onoclée and pinned her to the wall. Her height would’ve put a Iop woman to shame, which meant that Amalia was perfectly positioned to just bury her face in those luscious tits, licking and sucking and nosing to her heart’s content. She popped one of Onoclée’s big brown nipples into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, while Onoclée set her hands roving over Amalia’s body, fondling her boobs in turn. 

“Frax - hah - Fraxinelle’s going to be here as soon as she can get away…”

Amalia pulled back, keeping Onoclee’s nipple in her mouth until it escaped her lips with a soft pop. “She won’t mind if we start without her.” 

She flipped up Onoclee’s skirt and stuck her hand between her legs, buried her fingers in her fluffy pubes and clasped her mound. Amalia couldn’t believe how hot she was, and when she wriggled a finger into her folds her juices instantly started to flow. 

“Who’s naughty now?” Amalia said. 

“I don’t h-have an excuse,” Onoclée said, her voice turning breathless. “You always know exactly how to tease me.”

Amalia grinned, and slammed her palm against the living wooden wall. A glow spread out from her hand, and green vines shot from the wood. They coiled around Onoclée’s wrists and ankles, and a couple wrapped round her stomach, holding her immobile. 

“Ah! Princess!”

“We’re not done yet,” Amalia said. She wiggled her fingers, and another vine emerged just below Onoclée’s crotch. This one was thick and bulbous, and dripped with sticky-slimy sap. It groped its way upwards, pushed between Onoclée’s buttocks and-

“Oh! Oh Sadida, that feels gooooood!”

Amalia guided the wriggling tendril into Onoclée’s arsehole, squeezing it through her ring, pushing it further and further up until it was firmly lodged there, writhing and twisting in place. Onoclée moaned out loud. 

Finally, Amalia stomped her foot, and a vine grew from the floor and wound it’s way up and around Amalia’s leg. When it reached her pussy it folded in half and slipped it’s double-thick length into her. She groaned, then squealed, her walls stretching wide, and bit her lip as her pleasure and her juices flowed. Reaching her limit, the vine stopped, leaving its tip protruding obscenely from her crotch. Amalia stroked her new plant-cock, and the parts of it inside her wiggled in sympathy. 

Grabbing Onoclée’s waist, Amalia pulled herself close, her vine slithering against Onoclée’s cleft, poking and probing for an opening.  
“Ready, Ono?”

“Always.”

Amalia thrust, and the vine slid deep into Onoclée’s pussy. The one in her arse started to move in time with Amalia, and Onoclée moaned wildly, throwing back her head in exultation. Amalia joined her; the vine inside her was undulating uncontrollably, resonating with her excitement and the tightness of Onoclée’s walls around its tip. She rolled her hips against Onoclée with ever more vigour and buried her face in her tits again, losing herself in warmth and passion, sweat and exertion. 

So she was when Onoclée said “Ahh…F-Fraxinelle!”

“Hey guys,” said a piping voice from behind her. Amalia twisted around to see the diminutive Fraxinelle already stripping off. That done, she pressed herself against Amalia’s back, the points of her nipples poking her skin, and hugged her tight. 

“Want some vines, Frax?” Amalia said, grunting between thrusts. It was difficult to make herself heard over Onoclée’s breathy squeals,and even harder to concentrate on her words. 

“Yes please! And give me some sap too.”

Amalia stamped, and another vine emerged between Fraxinelle’s legs and rocketed upwards, penetrating her pussy with unerring accuracy. She yelped and scooted onto her tiptoes, but settled back down with a sigh once the vine started moving, her hot breath whispering across the back of Amalia’s neck. 

Another vine emerged beside Fraxinelle, oozing lubricious sap like the one in Onoclée’s arse. She grabbed it and ran her hand along it’s length, squeezing out gooey gobbets of the stuff until her palm and fingers were soaked. She released the vine, which withered back into the floor, and slapped Amalia’s bottom, splattering sap everywhere. Amalia growled and jerked forward, drawing an extra-loud moan from Onoclée.

Amalia felt Fraxinelle squeeze and knead her bum, her fingers gliding ever closer to its parting ‘til she slipped them in there and traced an oily fingertip around Amalia’s pucker. Amalia panted, anticipating what was to come. Fraxinelle pushed her finger into Amalia’s butthole, and Amalia whimpered, her sphincter tight around that intruder, clenching then relaxing.

“Why do you like my - nnn - butt so much?” Amalia said, groaning as Fraxinelle worked her digit all the way in, swirling it around to slather Amalia’s insides with sap. 

“Who wouldn’t!”

Fraxinelle pushed another finger into Amalia, then a third, keeping them straight and rigid so Amalia could hump back against them. She did so with gusto, mixing the pleasure of fucking Onoclée with the pleasure of getting fingerfucked. Fraxinelle stepped forward and squished Amalia between her and Onoclée’s bodies. Amalia had absolutely no complaints about that, and returned her face to Onoclée’s boobs.

Rocked between her two servants, Amalia wondered if she was as in control as she thought she was. Onoclée howled for more vine-cock, forcing Amalia to pour more magic into it, thickening and lengthening it, stretching Onoclée to her limit and herself to twice that. And Fraxinelle - bouncing on her toes as her own vine rippled inside her - jammed her fingers deep into Amalia’s butt and curled them down. Amalia gasped, plant and flesh squeezed together through the wall between her pussy and her rectum.

As Amalia’s arousal approached its zenith, her vines went wild, thrusting, coiling, writhing. Onoclée was the first to cum, and she howled her pleasure down the hallway, heedless of whether anyone could hear. Amalia kept fucking her, burying her face in her sweaty tits, and was rewarded with her own orgasm a scant few seconds later. Her pussy clenched and rippled around the vine; her arsehole clamped down on Fraxinelle’s fingers. Salvos of unconstrained ecstasy shook her bodily and had her joining Onoclée in a breathless chorus. With that came a burst of magic, and the sap in her vines burst from their tips, filling Onoclée and Fraxinelle’s cunts with thick, sticky goop. That was enough to set Fraxinelle off, and she came clinging to Amalia’s back, fingers still stuffed deep in her princess’ rear.

Spent, Amalia’s vines withered, releasing Onoclée from the wall and shrivelling out of her, Amalia and Fraxinelle’s holes. Onoclée gratefully let her arms drop and grabbed her crotch, trying to stem the flood of sap oozing from between her lips.

“Ugh,” she said, “I feel so bloated. Must you always fill us up like that, Princess?”

“Amalia always lets her vines pop at the end,” Fraxinelle said. She peeled herself away from Amalia and pulled her fingers from her arse with a sticky squelching sound. “I don’t think she can control them as well as she thinks.”

“How dare you,” said Amalia. “I could weave a tapestry with my vines. Come up to my room one night and I’ll show you how well I control them.” She stomped, and one of the vines in question shot from the ground and gave Fraxinelle’s butt a sharp swat.

She yelped. “Okay, okay! I believe you. But, uh, the offer still stands, right?”

“Ahem.” Onoclée cleared her throat. She’d already picked up her top and wrapped it back round her chest.

“You two can organise your sordid games later. We must get back to the party.” She rested her hand against the wall, and a branch bearing thick, cottony leaves emerged. They each took a handful and wiped themselves clean. When they were reasonably presentable, they redressed and left the hallway side by side.

“Thanks, girls,” Amalia said. “These parties would send me mad if you weren’t around.”

“Our pleasure,” Onoclée said.

“Happy to help,” said Fraxinelle.

“We’re always ready for a royal booty call.” Onoclée reached over and squeezed the royal booty, making Amalia jump. Fraxinelle grabbed a handful too, and giggling, the three of them headed back to the grand hall, ready to face whatever high society could throw at them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Keep up to date with my fics at geistygeist.tumblr.com.


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